Introspect
by PsYChO
Summary: A provocative glimpse at the social turmoil endured by Videl before her acquaintanceship and subsequent romance with Son Gohan. One shot.


Introspect

I submit for your approval one Videl Satan.

A normal teen enduring the normal challenges of a normal world.

Normal. A very ambiguous term, yet used so freely amongst the common populace that its boundaries entrench far more ground than originally intended. What is normal? Normal can't be unique, can it? Unique is a unique term, misnomers aside. Normal is also a unique term. Everyone born in this world is unique, many factors can attest to that. No one person will have a duplicate, with the obvious exception of the actuality of twin babies. Even then, delving deeper into classification, fingerprints (Twins have slightly different), deoxyribonucleic acid or DNA (Twins will have identical DNA, although there will be some micromutations within), dental records (twins will have the same at birth, but different circumstances may lead to different teeth formation later on in life), and disregarding all this scientific mumbo jumbo, the individual characteristics and idiosyncrasies unique to any given person. Then, normal may be that a teenage female may experience menstrual jitters when she will reach puberty, but then again, many will not. So, can both these contradicting terms be labeled as normal? If they are, and we will assume that it is so, then is normal self-contradicting? A paradox, a semantic illusion? Normal is so vague that anything will be labeled as normal, so long as it isn't anything that isn't normal. Confused? That's normal.

The point of a paragraph long monologue consisting of basically pointless discussion upon the merits of normalcy you ask? That's also normal. Videl, by any means, would not consider herself to be normal. In fact, her mindset is so rigidly fixed upon that matter that she'd become hostile if someone suggested that she was normal. 

A short fuse, that's normal for her. 

Videl, though, was a normal teenager with abnormal circumstance surrounding her. She was the "Daughter of the Champ". She was a showpiece, an accolade attesting to her Father's image. Her motive in life was simple, preconceived by her Father. A tampering of the fates if you will. She enhanced his image for the public, thus letting him bask in his euphoria of narcissism for much longer. To everyone, he was a sweet caring father that would sacrifice the world for his daughter, his offspring. His progeny, his only progeny. But Videl knew better. She knew that the façade he had erected—the very one that encircled her, caged her, imprisoned her to herself—was insurmountable, indestructible, and worst of all, intangible. 

How could she fight something that she could not see, that she could not comprehend? Frequently she felt like the walls were closing in, trapping her in the oblivion of loneliness, but she could not hit at it. She had trained herself very well. Her dexterity in martial arts surpassed people considered far above her in fighting prowess, including her father. She knew how to defend herself and not one to bastion patience readily, she would lash out. Hit, maim, hurt; things she was well acquainted with because of her voluntary assistance to the police. Things were different now, and they were confusing. All she could do now was hit herself. There was nothing tangible the blame could be fixed on, then identified, and then confronted. There is nothing to fear but fear itself? We fear anything we cannot understand. 

Videl was afraid. Dseep down even she acknowledged that. She was afraid because she didn't know where she was heading. That wasn't so bad. Direction gives us purpose, but it doesn't give us motivation. What hurt more was that wherever she was heading, she was destined to do it alone. She was fed up with loneliness. She was sick and tired of sealing things in her heart, suppressing her emotions, acting like everything was perfect. She would be immensely grateful if someone would literally give the walls ears. At least then, someone would listen to her. 

A delinquent by circumstance, not by choice. Social perception? It was laughable. Anyone exposed to her for more than a tenth of a minute would either end up with their ears ringing in pain, or their skulls ringing in pain. There weren't usually any other alternatives. The exceptions of the rule—two people—who weren't capable of alleviating her social plight as well. One was fun to talk to, to interact with, but that was interaction alone. Not a consoling heart, a listening ear, or an understanding mind. She didn't want a sympathetic ear. No. Sympathy she despised. The other was the textbook classification of a loser—a thick-skulled one that didn't catch a hint, or refused to catch it. Even then, he served as interaction enough at school. That's it. An in-depth look at her social life. A _high school_ student's social life. Two people that provided the exception to the rule, the rule that Videl Satan was introverted to the point of isolation. An exception to a rule disproves a rule, correct? She loved to grasp at hopelessness. It at least gave the impression that she wouldn't go down without a fight, a determination of willpower that was burning fiercely within her soul. __

Her introverted characteristic though, goes deeper than just ego or the dislike of socializing. She liked to socialize. Ever since she was a little girl, she loved to take walks with her mother in the park, just talking about things. Girl talk they would say when a frustrated Mr. Satan would ask what they were giggling incessantly about. For hours and hours the mother and daughter duo would converse; idle chatter, serious talk, deep dialogue, or just frivolous gossip. Then she left. She had to leave didn't she? Just when things were good, and the world seemed safe and welcoming. Fate had a cruel tendency to raise hopes to the point of optimism, and then dash them with a skillful swipe of misfortune, or tragedy, depending on its magnitude. Was it a test? A test of what? And she wasn't ready for this test. Not at her tender age of 7. Everything then was akin to the whirlpool initiated by flushing the toilet. Everything went literally down the drain, everything she valued. No more walks in the park. No more chatter. No more sweet, caring voice soothing her to sleep. Or warm bosom protecting her from the world. No loving embrace where she was led to believe that, "Everything would be ok." Coming from her mother, it felt true, an aphorism if you will. That phrase coming from anyone else could not convince her now, not ever. 

No, after her mother died, her social side died. It was aided and abetted by her father, and the new developments in his life. His fame and fortune added a distance between father and daughter that could never be resolved. She was truly alone. When her mother died, the father she knew and loved died along with her. When her mother died, everything died. It was like the Doppler Shift, the ripple effect of one event altering everything she knew and accepted. She began to distrust people, be skeptical, pessimistic, and worst of all she forgot how it felt to be reached out to. Anyone that reached out for her would be disappointed to find that she was never there. Just her empty shell that continued living because of the sake of living. She was empty inside, she was empty outside, then rightfully so she felt like the emptiness was consuming her. 

People just wanted to get close to her because of her father. Yes. No one is genuine in this world; everyone has an ulterior agenda that dictates his or her behavior. Yes. Her father just uses her to boost his character, to add leverage to his already inflated image. Yes. No one perceives her as Videl, only as the daughter of The Man. Yes. I have no…SHE has no image, she is nobody, and she does not have any individuality. Yes, yes, and NO! NO! She is someone. She has to be. Someone that is phased out under the darkness cast by her father's enormous shadow. They can't see her. That doesn't mean she doesn't exist. They have to see her. Someday, someone will see her. Recognize her, accept her, and truly believe in her. That Someday is a distant truth, a fantasy she would clutch on to until her essence is snuffed out by the cold world. So for the sake of that one purpose, one aspiration, she will continue to walk in this world. The hope that someone is out there that can understand her. 

***********************************************************

Videl sighed and put her pen down and backed up a little from her desk on her swivel chair, rubbing at her aching eyes. She glanced over at the paper that lay still before her, garlanded by neat rows of letters in black ink. There it was. She didn't know what compelled her to write down, and physically document, the emotions that she felt in her time of being totally lost. But she didn't regret it. This was like a snapshot of that baneful era in her life. Serving as a constant reminder that even when all seemed lost and the only option suitable was to abandon everything and be led astray, hope can never be suppressed. And through that small flicker can come great things. A tiny flame that can flare up at anytime, turning into a crackling fire that shone out light to beat back the darkness. She heard rustling behind her and a smile tugged at the sides of her pinkish lips. A pair of firm hands encircled her shoulders from above, whilst warm lips traced a line down the side of her neck. She felt him nuzzle his nose into her nape, finally resting his head on her shoulder.

"Whacha doing?"

"Nothing much. Just reminiscing."

"Oh? Had fun?"

"I'd rather not do it again."

"Come on, my high school antics weren't that bad were they?" The soft voice jibed in playful banter.

She laughed, a sort of girlish giggle. "Saiya-dork definitely should be left in the scrapbooks to serve as a reminder that as low as we get in life, we can never get as low as that!"

"Hey! I'd have you know that a whole fanclub was dedicated to me! Website and all! And you became Saiya-girl ya know, sort of like a female Saiya-dork!" He exclaimed, still keeping his head resting on her shoulder. He started to rub his cheek on hers. He loved her creamy, silky smooth skin. 

"I never did those ridiculous poses!"

"Admit it, you thought about them."

"Preposterous!"

"I saw a pic of you in a magazine, seems like Saiya-girl was the hottest super-hero around."

"She was the ONLY super-hero around."

"You have to admit though, you are super hot Vidy."

She pulled his arms tighter around her shoulder and chest area, loving the warmth his body emitted. 

"Sometimes I wonder how I was lucky enough to ensnare you into my love trap. I can't deserve someone like you."

She shook her head in annoyance at his "corny" dialogue, but more in annoyance at the implication of the statement.

"Gohan, if it wasn't for you, I would have receded and kept receding until I was no more. You have no idea what you did for me. You have no idea what kind of life you gave me. No idea what you showed me; a better place, a better life." Her tone was low, almost sad, but not quite. It bordered on melancholy and on relief.

"I think I have a vague idea."

"Shut up." She was smiling from ear to ear.

"Love you." He said, lightly kissing her earlobe. 

"Always." 


End file.
